Gemotions

Eliza gripped her lukewarm tea, knuckles white. The bar, a dimly lit haven she'd frequented in her early twenties, was suddenly echoing with the familiar opening bars. It was her song, a ballad she'd written during a particularly painful breakup. Now, a man with a surprisingly strong voice was belting it out, his version polished and slick. She found herself tracing the outline of her scar, a physical echo of a past heartbreak. A sense of displacement settled in her stomach, a feeling of being both here and a lifetime ago.